Flaneur Not sure, to be honest. I like to see people enjoying themselves. I’ve always understood the power of music, on some level. It’s been a very big part of my life. From the lads I went to the football with I’d be the one more likely to go to a concert than a match if finances dictated it was one or the other or dates clashed. I got ribbed a lot for been into obscure stuff, even when most of what I listened to wasn’t that obscure. None of Paul Heaton’s music has any special significance for me. I’ve seen him once, in the Beautiful South days. I was talking with the wife about it yesterday, she barely remembers it.
I don’t think I really identify with that crowd either. I don’t really think I’ve ever properly identified with any particular crowd. Even at the height of going to the football, the whole scruff look thing, I still used to go to these indie nights that a lad I met in Jumbo records ran. He looked like Stephen Pastel and played all that stuff plus the 60s stuff. No one there was dressed like me. Me and H used to go to the psychedelic nights at the Chocolate Factory when most of our mates were off raving. Trust me, we didn’t look like anyone else in there back then either
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I think I liked the honesty of it. I can’t stand the scared to get happy types. I’ve made an arse of myself loads but I’ve had more fun than a million well dressed, good looking wallflowers.
Maybe it’s the timing? Life sucks for a lot of people right now. That crowd looked the polar opposite. It wasn’t sadness I was feeling. Music is medicine, I guess. The best of all the drugs. Escapism. A couple of hours not having to think about the day to day.
